


Winter

by BitterTeaBouquet



Series: Summer & Winter [1]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, May be a little dramatic, Short Chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-09 09:49:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15264837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterTeaBouquet/pseuds/BitterTeaBouquet
Summary: Simon hasn't a clue what he is doing on this app. "Chatterbox" It's called. It is supposed to unite people across the globe, let them talk and meet. Simon thinks nothing will come out of it but then he meets a stranger and finds a friendship he didn't expect. All may be peachy on the app, but in real life, there is faulty wifi, A burned down shop, a possible magic corgi, and worst of all a boy named Baz.





	1. Empty Shelves

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, Y'all. This is my first Fic posted on here. This takes place in a British setting (and as I am not British) I will get some of the terms or wording wrong. I'll do my best not to, but if you notice anything off just tell me in the comments. Hope you enjoy :D

**Simon**

 

I wasn’t lonely. I just needed someone who wasn’t Penny. Or any of the people at the home.

I looked at the app with its stupid icon. A world sat in a mouth, with exaggerated teeth covering the top and bottom of the square. Beside it screamed “Chatter Box: Worldwide friend finder”. It made my stomach churn but at the same time, I felt a little sad. Someone had to create an app, so people with no one could talk to someone. People like me.

I clicked the install button and waited.

It took a lot longer than I thought it would. Then again, the flat has bad Wi-Fi. I have a theory that’s it's because of how many people the landlord squished into the building. At first, it was one person per floor, then it was two, now it is three. Luckily, I still hold a room. So many people are on the Wi-Fi at the same time, it shorts out. That’s not even counting the microwave problem. Or the sneezing one.

I shoved my phone into the pocket of my plaid pyjama pants and walked out of my room. Across from me was Ayla and next beside her was Cartmel. I used to see them a lot but that was before I got a job.

The cupboards were open when I entered the kitchen, and I remembered that Ayla had had people over - I glanced at the time on the oven- last night. She was the worst for replacing what she took. I only hoped that she didn’t take any of my biscuits.

I sighed as I looked at my level in the cupboard. It was empty.

It made me angrier then I’d like to admit. I was in a snacky mood and had paid for those biscuits myself. She always says she will pay me back but never does. Whenever I bring it up she always makes the excuse that she “didn’t know” it was my shelf. What bollocks.

I wondered if I could find a grocery shop still open, and before I knew it I was shrugging on my jacket and boots. I took an umbrella and tucked it in my pocket. I don’t know what could happen with the bad weather as it is.

I stepped out into a winter wonderland. The lights on this street aren’t like the ones in central London, these are softer and almost remind me of fairy lights. The tall, thin houses seemed to lean in as I walked down the cobbled street. It was an empty night tonight, no cars or people doing late-night meanderings like I was. The soft layer of snow on the ground crunched under my feet. This is heaven.

After a few minutes of walking, I came to my expected destination and was happy to find it open. Cam’s convenience store had been open for as long as any of the people who lived here could remember. It really is the most convenient store, as it’s placed right between student housing, and flats full of wankers. One in the same really.

I entered and gave a little nod to Niko, the guy who runs the store at night. I circled back to the biscuit and pudding aisle. I was so involved looking for the blue package with tiny snowmen on it that I hadn’t noticed the person standing beside me. Until I ran into him.

**Baz**

I woke up hating myself for napping instead of studying. I cannot let my grades slip now. If I do, Father will have my throat. Hell, I might have my throat. I was the one who decided to go into history. Fucking history. It was around the time Fiona wouldn't shut up about those stupid huts some archeologists found in Canada. And it was the time where I had no idea who I was because of the break up with Cart.

I lifted myself out of bed and immediately tripped on a stack of books. All textbooks of course, all dry as hell and boring and for some reason so interesting and fascinating. Fuck history. No one likes history. I. don't. like. history.

I stumbled across the room to the pathetic kitchen the dorm supplied and opened the cupboard. I am desperate for a cupper.

I looked up at the empty shelf. How could I let this happen? Niall and Dev don't even like Earl Grey! They refuse to drink it even if I make it into a London Fog. I have been too distracted, I let my Tea stash go from plentiful to nothing! I closed the cupboard and took a few steps to the doorway. That's it. For the rest of the year, no boys. No boys, no parties, no getting off topic.

But first, I need to go get some damned tea.

I slipped on my brown loafers. They weren't great for the snow but I wasn't willing to put on the knee-high boots Daphne had given me for Christmas. They were such a loud blue and clashed with the wrinkled slacks I was wearing. Not only that, but they are such a trouble to put on.

I shrugged on my jacket and put my keys and wallet in my pocket, then crept out of the dorm.

Cam's convince shop is arguably the worst in the world, but what else did I expect to be open at 1:10 am? A royal tea house apparently.

I glared at the store with distaste, but my need for tea was stronger than any hatred I could muster.

I pushed the store open and kept my head down. Interaction with any half-life named Cam was the last thing I wanted. I went to the back aisle and started to circle. It was a few minutes of me pacing and muttering curses beneath my breath before I resolved to just ask the fucking man.

I didn't even notice the blonde bloke standing behind me. Until I ran into him.


	2. More than I bargained for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His eyes aren’t pretty. They aren’t even special. But for some reason my body betrays me, and I am motionless.

**Baz**

“What The fu-,” was all I could get out before I toppled to the side. It rained cookie packages onto the floor. I clenched my jaw and my steadied myself. This guy must be a real idiot. I looked at the ground where he currently was. His face was away from me, his plaid legs sprawled across the dirty tile. It appeared as if he didn’t break his fall in any manner.

I took a step towards him. “What the hell is wrong with you? I wasn’t even moving!” How could someone be so dumb as to not look in front of them? And why is he just laying there? I crossed my arms.

“Let’s just agree to both take blame, Alright?” He muttered, still looking at the floor.

I was just about to tell him to stand up, when he literally bounced up from the floor and shouted, “There they are!” He scooped up several blue packages of what seemed to be off-brand McVities Gold syrup creams. I grimaced. This guy looked to be very… plush already.

He turned towards me. Fully now. He was ginning down at the package in his hands and when he looked up, he was grinning at me just as hard.

My. Heart. Stopped.

His eyes aren’t pretty. They aren’t even special. But for some reason my body betrays me, and I am motionless. His smile is like the fucking sun, and I felt I had to shield myself from it before it gave me a burn. This resulted in me squinting at him. Hard.

His smile disappeared as soon as it started and he glared at me, “What’s with you?”

I blinked a few times at the beautiful fucker and sneered, “Mind your own god damned business,” It wasn’t the best reply, I admit, but I’m flustered and can’t think properly. My head feels light and damn, he won’t stop looking at me!

He shot an odd look my way, then turned and walked towards the counter. I will not admit to looking at his ass, I will not, I will not, okay, I will. He has a nice ass. There, I can come to terms with this horrendous crush I seem to have.

I caught Cam, the blonde guy at the counter staring at me as he rung up Mr. Sunshine. I could feel my cheeks flush as I tried to find something else to stare at. I looked at the mess on the floor and managed to feel a small drip of guilt. I had worked in retail for three years before I had managed to get accepted into Watford. It was hell, luckily, I had Dev with me.

My mind snapped back into focus when I came face-to-face with a bright yellow package. Finally. The tea. No matter how cheap and shitty it is, I will buy it and drink four cups. I picked it up and tucked it under my arm. It was a sheer habit when I started to pick up the rest of the items and put them back into where I thought their designated slots were. My hand found the biscuits Mr. sunshine had gotten so ecstatic over. I wonder if I should buy some, just to see if they are any good? He seemed to be crazed over them. I shook my head and put it back on the shelf. I reached down to grab another box when I met something very rough and hot and-

That is not a biscuit pack. That’s a hand. I’m grabbing someone’s hand. And I haven’t let go yet.

I Jerked away a second after it got uncomfortable and awkward. I looked at the hand, on the cookies, which was red and splotchy and just covered in freckles and little spots. Then my eyes flicked to the hand's owner.

Mr. freaking sunshine.

I opened my mouth to call him out but nothing but a small breath came out of my lips. This guy is killing me.

He raised a pale blonde eyebrow at me and absent-mindedly put the package back onto the shelf. In the wrong spot.

“It doesn’t go there,” I growled.

He scoffed, “What does it matter?”

“Right. You will probably just eat it anyway,” I jabbed unconsciously.

When he jerked back and clenched his fist in his jumper, I thought about every time my father told me to gain a filter. I wish I had listened to him.

I stood up and placed it in the proper spot. He rolled his eyes but stayed crouched. He smells like smoke, it is nearly overwhelming but at the same time intoxicating. He stood up and for a moment we were chest to chest. Then I stepped away and walked to the register. It looks like I am getting more than I bargained for tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Thanks for reading! Sorry for the odd tense shifts. I am trying to keep to one but sometimes my mind just shifts and I don't really notice until I am editing.


	3. Midnight stroll

**Simon**

He seemed familiar at first. I can recall maybe seeing him at one of Agatha’s parties, but then again, I am known for having a shitty memory. I wanted to play it safe, Agatha always told me that I was too quick to judge, that I didn’t have empathy and always expected people to care about my problems even though I didn’t care about theirs. Now that I looked back, I can see that I should’ve known she would break up with me.

But when he made that snipe at my weight, like a complete wanker? And the fact that he talked to me like I was five? I didn’t want to give this guy any time of day. He has probably never worked a day in his life, based on his clothes and his perfect fucking hair. Who dresses in slacks and a button down this late at night anyways!?

I squinted up at him and tried not to roll my eyes when he “fixed” my shelving mistake. He clearly doesn’t know anything about Niko. Niko doesn’t give a shit about this store or any of its contents. I know that he is just doing this for Ebb. After he got out of jail last year he has been trying to clean his act up (at least that is what Ebb thinks) but he has had trouble getting a job. No one wants an ex-con working at their store. Ebb lets him works nights now, which I think is too generous of her.

I stood up just as he turned around and we for a moment we were chest-to-chest. That is until he literally flinched away from me. As he did, I caught a whiff of what must be some expensive cologne he must put on excessively (seriously who needs to smell that strong?). It smelled like smoke. A rich, potent stench that made my nose itch and my lungs contract.

He practically glided away from me, all smug and posh. Disgusting. I bet he goes to Watford, all the assholes do. (except for Penny. And Agatha.)  I swallowed that thought, but I was too late. The memory of being rejected (twice!) from Watford swarmed my brain and I felt bad and sickly all over again. It took me weeks to get over the letter. It was bad enough that they had to send it twice, just to get my hopes up. Penny had put me up to applying, and I had let myself get excited. I knew I wasn’t going to get in. Yet, some part of me had hoped.

He paid without speaking to Niko once, and then he just left. He didn’t look back at me or anything! I clenched my jaw. My stomach gave an odd protest, and I assumed that I was just hungry. I watched the plexiglass door slam shut behind him (wind probably) and then turned to Niko, who I found was staring at me.

“Do you know each other?” He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

I shook my head casting away any thoughts of the boy, gave a quick goodbye and then left.

As I walked home, I realized the atmosphere had changed. I could hear sirens in the distance, distant music, and the plastic bag rubbing against my leg. Maybe they were there before, maybe they weren’t but now I couldn’t help but feel a lot smaller. The houses that had once seemed inviting, now loomed over me, reminding me of how inferior I was. Just as I was about to start contemplating the meaning of life itself, I reached my flat door.

Midnight strolls do strange things to the brain. Nothing tea and biscuits won’t fix.


	4. A new message

**Baz**

Why does none of this make sense? I looked up from the textbook with groggy eyes. The lamp next beside the desk only cast enough light for me to barely make out the words. I usually have incredible sight, but now I am straining myself. I have spent the past hour reading The Oxford History of Britain and decided to take a break by reading Vanity Fair (It’s for English) but I can’t understand a single word! It all looks to be in gibberish. I rubbed my eyes once more and peered down at the book again. Maybe if I concentrate harder…? I sighed and leaned back in my chair. My body feels like wet sand, all clumpy and uneven. My neck is the worst, though. I rolled it around a few times to stretch and out of the corner of my eye, I could see a green hardcover. It was in the pile of books I had kicked over earlier. I leaned over and grabbed it. The title screamed “Vanity Fair”. I looked at the book in my hand, then the book on the desk. I closed the book on the desk and recognized greek on the cover.

Either I am an idiot, or Niall put his book in my bag. I left both books on the desk and tossed myself into bed. Maybe my past self was right. If I had just stayed asleep, I wouldn’t have had this problem. And I wouldn’t have met that boy.

Clearly, I am not going to study tonight (Not really that big of a deal since I am the smartest in the class.) I took out my phone and opened my Ugh folder. Inside was all the normal stuff: Instagram, Tumblr, lots and lots of garbage apps, then at the very bottom, Chatterbox. I had downloaded it as a joke after Cart, but then It had grown on me. At first, I thought it was dumb, all I would get is dick pics and homophobes, right? But then once I realized that you couldn’t send photos and nearly everyone on the app was either a lesbian or bisexual, I came to peace with it.

While I waited for it to open, I plugged in my headphones and went to Spotify. I had been listening to Heros by David Bowie while I had walked home but now I wasn’t in the right mood. As good as it was, it always made me think of “Perks of being a wallflower” which just makes me sad. Instead, I chose Cough Syrup by Young the Giant.

With music in my ears, I went back to the app to browse my contact list, seeing if anyone was up to talk. I had stopped getting new messages after the first two months I had joined. I had enough people and just assumed that my profile had gotten lost in the plethora of new users. I went to talk to one of my favourite online friends, Micha when my phone chimed.

A new message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware that I may be butchering the characters. I need to re-read Carry On again to get back in the mood.


End file.
